


the way you see right through me, baby

by wadingpool



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Introspection, Love Confessions, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Reminiscing, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wadingpool/pseuds/wadingpool
Summary: The sea churns with the new bouts of excitement, and Korai, having lived with no ocean in sight for almost his whole life, cannot help but stare in awe at the liveliness of it all.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	the way you see right through me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this while listening to 100 gecs
> 
> haha hi back on my hiruhoshi brain rot lmaooooo
> 
> expect more soon!
> 
> anyways (the first half of) this one was actually beta'd by my two great friends that i love dearly, dd and astra and their twitter, along with mine, will be linked at the end!
> 
> thanks for reading!

Korai didn’t know much about animals. He didn’t quite pay much attention in class, and he didn’t go to zoos all the time or anything, but what he did know was the most basic barebones of what Sachiro had told him, or from what random nature documentary he had happened to stumble upon from the YouTube recommended while he used Sachiro’s laptop. He knows they have nervous systems, and that they have their own thought processes, they have cells, they have all that cool stuff that humans also have. 

He knew something about the science-y stuff that Sachiro mentioned, like how dogs evolved in response to humans and they have a mutualistic relationship or something. 

And that cats have something in their eyes that starts with a ‘T’— or was it an ‘S’? Korai didn’t really know— that helped them see in the dark, and that seagulls would sometimes jump on the ground as a group, so that worms would think it was raining and would come up, just to be gobbled up by an expecting beak.

In the end, it didn’t really matter what Korai knew or didn’t about animals, it didn’t matter if he knew absolutely everything, or absolutely nothing; all that mattered was the way Sachiro’s face seemed to light up in a way that only Korai really ever saw as he gushed about whatever animal he had recently helped in his internship, or about what they went over in his biology class, or what he read in a scientific journal.

He could imagine the same look in his eyes as he spoke about this new play Kageyama and he had been attempting, or this new stretching technique that Ushijima had told him, or even when Fukuro tells him he did a good job. Korai can imagine that very look mirrored on his face whenever Sachiro talks about what he’s passionate about. 

Long gone was the solemn look of a dead man walking that used to grace the gentle slopes of Sachiro’s face and had made its home in dark eyes. It had faded away with the years, along with crushing expectations. It disappeared just like tears on cheeks that had yet to lose the remaining baby fat, or the scrapes on knuckles that slowly faded to small, white scar tissue. What remained was the passion Sachiro had held blossoming before everyone’s eyes.  
  


The sea churns with the new bouts of excitement, and Korai, having lived with no ocean in sight for almost his whole life, cannot help but stare in awe at the liveliness of it all.

It was on a train ride to the wall in their third year that Korai realized that he wanted to see that gleam in Sachiro’s eyes for the rest of his life. But it wasn’t something abrupt like you see in those corny romance movies.

Korai’s eyes didn’t widen and Sachiro didn’t ask him if he was alright and Korai did not stutter a response. The revelation came in a whisper as he looked out the window, not even looking at Sachiro, and it settled in his ribcage and it felt right. 

There was no drama, no panic. 

It was just Korai, and his love for Sachiro, finally in agreement. It was as if he had known all along that he wanted to spend time with Sachiro.

It didn’t even need to be romantic, not if Sachiro didn’t want to—Korai just knew he would love Sachiro, keep him in the locket that is his heart, and would like to stay with him.

It’s different from any feeling he’s had, but Korai is not scared—he takes it in strides, not looking back— it’s a different sensation than the hunger that drives him in volleyball. 

This want is fundamentally different and new, but at the same time, it is as easy as breathing. Korai does not falter at this revelation; he continues staring at the scenery of Nagano, watches as it blurs together in streaks of colors as he feels Sachiro’s slack, tall figure next to him.

It’s always been as easy as breathing with Sachiro.

There were many terrifying aspects of the future that Korai often felt himself freeze up at, but Sachiro was something that never made him falter. Korai was a walking bag of contradictions, something he was crushingly aware of. It seemed the only person besides his mother who had ever bothered to parse through it had been Sachiro, and it was because Korai had done the same with him.

Their pilgrimage to the wall happens at just a simple request.

A cocked head and a soft “ _today?”_ from Sachiro is all that is needed for Korai to agree. It’s a request that Korai has never denied Sachiro, and he doubts he ever will. It’s mostly quiet, with only the smallest conversation taking place. They were in their third year. Sachiro was staying in Nagano, and Hoshiumi was leaving to Ōita to play with the Schweiden Adlers. There was a heaviness Korai had never felt, and he knew, at that moment, that if he never told Sachiro he loved him, Korai would never find the confidence to do so ever again.

It is simple.

He has never been scared of his feelings, but what terrified Korai the most was the idea of never telling Sachiro he loves him. It’s something that weighs on him, and it drives him forward, just as Sachiro finished talking. He stares at Sachiro’s profile, his brown hairs gently swaying with the gusts of wind blowing through the air as he looks out, absorbing the familiar view of their childhood meeting.

With Sachiro, it is easy.

Korai can take it easy.

“I love you.” It’s simple and the words gently float between them, a leaf blowing in the chilly air. Sachiro turns to him, turning his head and mouth in a small “O” shape. Korai sees the words sink in, and the surprise melts to a small smile that curls the corners of Sachiro’s mouth.

“There was no need. I’ve always known, just like I've known I loved you since we were children.” Sachiro smiles and Korai reaches for the hand that years ago had been hurt on the very wall that stood near them. It was old and had weathered many showers of rain and harsh winds. Plaster from various repairs marked the wall and the thought made Korai’s chest feel airy and cool. It was a refreshing realization. The next storm will happen, but everything will be fine.

Sachiro’s eyes are bright, their television reflected in brown irises, with happiness swimming along with the small fish captured on the screen in front of them. Korai played with his soft hair, as Sachiro enthusiastically interrupted the narration of the documentary with some information on the physiology of fish. It went over his head, but he didn’t care. He leans down and presses a kiss to Sachiro’s forehead.

Korai did not have to understand anything—Sachiro’s passion was enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> [dd's twitter](https://twitter.com/kurohebiii)   
>  [astra's twitter](https://twitter.com/aastrae)   
>  [my twitter](https://twitter.com/starocexn)


End file.
